


Horn Called

by hydrangea



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fantasy Racism, May/December Relationship, Politics, Time Travel, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26500867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrangea/pseuds/hydrangea
Summary: Caspian uses Susan's Horn after his son's disappearance between VotDT and SC. To his (and her) surprise, the help he gets is Lucy from the Golden Age. Together, they realise that there are more things going on than either of them thought - personally AND politically.
Relationships: Caspian/Lucy Pevensie
Comments: 6
Kudos: 50
Collections: Narnia Fic Exchange 2020





	Horn Called

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosefox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosefox/gifts).



> A late treat for NFE.

“It’s not an emergency, your majesty!”

Caspian looked at his advisor. “It’s not an emergency,” he repeated. It was an effort to keep his tone even. “Lilliandil was killed in an attack by an unnaturally large serpent... My son disappeared in the company of a woman that, by all accounts, misrepresented herself to my senior advisor... But, most importantly, over the last five years, close to a hundred of Narnia’s people have mysteriously vanished in the southern areas. After several years of intensive searching for answers, we still have none. What part - of any of this - would not be an emergency?”

Drinian blanched. “There’s no armies. There’s no immediate threat.”

“Must all emergencies involve armies? Or immediate threats?” Caspian pushed his chair out and stood. If he stayed seated… There were far too many things near at hand to throw and this had been going on far too long. But… there was one more voice to hear that could still turn everything around.

“Trumpkin? What are your thoughts on the matter?”

Trumpkin had gone straight for one of the windows and opened it and settled in with his pipe, before the council had even begun. Anyone that hadn’t known him for dozens of years would likely have called him inattentive. Caspian knew better. Trumpkin might not have said a word as the discussions went on and on, his gaze far away and aimed at the western hills, but he didn’t miss a thing.

When Caspian spoke, Trumpkin put out his pipe, returned it to its case and faced the increasingly impatient council members. Trumpkin had little patience for court politics.

“Beg my pardon, your majesty,” Trumpkin said, “but there’s emergencies and there’s  _ emergencies _ .”

Drinian let out a soft ‘hah’ - and Caspian had to clench his fists against the urge to throttle his friend.

“But,” Trumpkin continued, “it doesn’t make  _ this  _ less of an emergency. As I see it, we’ve been invaded threefold: by a serpent, this lady,  _ and _ whatever makes people disappear. Bobbins and bitterbrew, if the three aren’t connected then Narnia is having quite a rash of coincidences - and incompetence protecting our borders. As Nikabrik would’ve said - misled, he might’ve been, but dumb he was not - isn’t it more likely that this lady is leading an advance on Narnia this very moment? Forgive me for saying this--” This, he aimed at Drinian, who didn’t look at all pleased anymore, “--but we’ve dealt with witches in Narnia before and if this lady isn’t one, I’ll eat my pipe.”

“But--” Drinian began to disagree.

Caspian decided right there and then that he’d had enough. “Yea or nay,” he interrupted, aiming the words at Trumpkin. “The vote has been at a tie since this meeting began. Retreading the same arguments over and over will lead us nowhere. Trumpkin, you have the last vote. Yea or nay.”

Trumpkin glanced out the window again before he answered - did he see something out there?

“I say yea, your majesty.”

“Then it is decided,” Caspian announced, ignoring the uproar among the rest of the council. “Susan’s Horn will be used at dawn.”

  
  
  


_ Trumpkin remained after the others had left, waiting until the very last person had gone before he looked out of the window again. “I saw you,” he told the Lion on the faraway hill plainly. “And I heard you. But I don’t agree. If you didn’t want the horn to be used, Aslan-sir, you shouldn’t have let us have it.” _

_ A wind ruffled his beard, bringing with it a voice that - if he was to be quite honest - he hadn’t wanted to hear again.  _ Very well, my son.

_ Then it was gone. _

  
  
  


Lilliandil had been buried in the heart of her most beloved garden, a pavilion raised in her honour to mark the spot. Roses clung to the elaborate latticework that formed its walls and the paths that wound through the garden to meet at the pavilion were lined with her favourite white flowers to celebrate her. Caspian often went there when he needed to ease his heart - or to vent, had the day’s work been hard enough - and on this day, he found himself in need of both.

Motioning for his guards to stay back, Caspian entered the garden alone, knowing that his Captain of the Guard would set watchers at each entrance, while their winged members kept an eye out for him above. Acting on an impulse, he bent at a particularly pretty blossom and picked it, bringing it with him as he made his way to the pavilion.

There was a stone set in the center of the pavilion, Lilliandil’s named inscribed on it along with the star that was associated with her. He sat down in front of it, placing the flower on top of her name, his hand resting for a moment on the sun-warmed stone.

“We’ve decided, Lilliandil,” he said quietly. “It took Trumpkin to turn the tide, but I will use the Horn at dawn.” He clenched and unclenched his hand, spreading the fingers across his thigh in an attempt to relax. “I only wish I did so when you were taken from us. We were foolish to think the serpent was a mere beast. And we were more than foolish to assume Rilian’s Lady was who she said she was.” Drinian, for all his stubbornness, knew people. They should’ve taken his feeling of unease more seriously.

Caspian closed his eyes against the grief welling inside, attempting to keep his breath even against everything that was trying to explode out of his chest.

What would Lilliandil have said? he wondered.

Time passed. The shadows grew long and when he finally stood and made his way out of the garden, the evening chill had set in. It was time to prepare.

  
  
  


Word had spread quickly about what they meant to do while Caspian sequestered himself in the garden. His Captain of the Guard took notice and decided that there was no way to keep the event contained should it take place within the palace proper. They would need to do it elsewhere - and leave early to do so. Having told only a handful of guards, the Captain woke Caspian two hours before dawn and ushered him out of the castle to one of the dumb horses kept for riding.

“Far too many ears and eyes,” the Captain told Caspian quietly as they rode. “I know that I wouldn’t like people staring at me as if I’m going to make a miracle appear by my mere presence.”

Caspian couldn’t argue with that.

They took one of the lesser used trails down to the beach below the palace hill. The tide was out at this time of night, baring the labyrinthic pillars and arcs of eroded rock, caves nestled in between them.. It was a good place for privacy - and safety - until the tide came in.

They stopped at the mouth of a cave that Caspian knew for sure was completely hidden at high tide, walking the horses inside. Inside, the guard spread out to keep watch, sending one of their number further out to make sure that the tide didn’t catch them unaware. Caspian, after a moment of hesitation, walked deeper into the cave, finding privacy at the back of the first great cavern.

Now that the moment had come, Caspian found himself hard pressed to push away all the doubts and fears that wanted to amass in his head. Was Rilian’s disappearance truly an emergency? Lilliandil’s death? Then he forced himself to remember the names of every single Narnian that had vanished, every single mother, daughter, father, son... and that they knew nothing of what had become of them

This wasn’t for him. This was for Narnia.

He raised the horn to his lips.

  
  
  


The noise was  _ deafening _ .

Lucy winced hard, nearly hitting her head on a branch.

“Lu?” Peter shouted over his shoulder. “We’ll lose the stag!”

Pulling at her reins, Lucy brought her horse to a walk. “A moment!” she called back. “I’ll catch up!”

They obviously hadn’t heard it.  _ It  _ being Susan’s horn. She  _ knew _ that sound. But it couldn’t be - they’d left the horn at Cair Paravel, to guard against any foul play. And that meant… Well, she didn’t now. But she had to make sure. A horn call for help… she couldn’t ignore it.

She slid off her horse and patted its neck, then grabbed her quiver from her saddle and set off into a densely populated grove. The light grew dim as she pressed between the first trees, everything packed together so tightly it was hard for her to move forwards. She squeezed herself between another set of trees and--

\--no, this wasn’t right.

The trees opened up -- was that the sea?

\--and they were--

Dark. And rock beneath her feet.

“What in…?” she began, then she slid on damp ground and the world spun…

Someone caught her. Her arm twinged as whoever it was pulled at it to keep her upright.

“Who  _ are _ you?” that someone demanded, then, just abruptly, silenced as the light of a torch hit her face. After a moment, “Lucy?”

Lucy blinked against the sudden light and found herself looking up at a tall man with a mass of curly hair and dressed in finery that couldn’t be anything but royal. A handsome man, certainly, but the most striking feature, to her, was how  _ sad _ he looked. He had lost someone, she thought, irrationally, then, a moment later, nearly lost her breath again as she realized that he held the Horn.

She had been Called. There… there really was no doubt.

Leaning on habit, she smiled politely. “Yes, I’m--”

“I know who you are,” the man interrupted - and really, he was not making the best of first impressions. A man of his age and (likely) station should have better manners. “I’m… You don’t know me.”

“Should I?” Fed up with the whole situation, Lucy dropped the politeness and crossed her arms. “I do believe  _ you _ are the one that used my sister’s Horn. I’m fairly sure that it doesn’t say that the help it calls has to be someone that knows you. In fact, I know it doesn’t.”

The man stared at her, then turned, sharply, hands going to drag through his hair, tugging at it, before turning back to her. “I apologise.” His tone was abrupt, but this time, perfectly polite. “I’m Caspian, current King of Narnia. Some thousand odd years after your reign, I believe.”

A thousand years? Lucy had to remind herself to breathe. That was… a long time.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said - that habit coming back to help her.

_ A thousand years? _

Then, she recalled: “You know me?”

Caspian had an odd look on his face. “We’ve met - though you were much younger than you are now.”

And wasn’t  _ that _ a statement that made little to no sense - but neither did her presence in this time and place. Or world, for that matter. Her brothers and sister had forgotten much about… England was the name, but she had retained more than perhaps they had realised. Perhaps because she was younger, perhaps because she had fewer preconceived notions.

Still…

_ Aslan? Should I be here? Is this the place I’m meant to be? _

He didn’t always answer when she called, but the times he  _ did _ answer by far outweighed the ones he didn’t.

_ Trust Caspian, dear one, _ Aslan’s voice said in her mind, rumbly and warm in that way that always set her at ease.  _ This journey is beyond my influence, but believe in yourself. You will find the way _ .

Stress that she hadn’t realised had settled in her shoulders drained, and suddenly Lucy found herself ready to face this new time to which she had been called.

“Well!” she said briskly. “ We obviously need to talk but… I do believe we should go somewhere more comfortable to do so.” She looked around and realized they had to be in the caverns beneath Cair Paravel. “I take it Cair Paravel is still standing?”

“She’s been rebuilt,” Caspian said, visibly catching up with the swift change of tone, then, “I would be honoured to host you.”

That, for a mixture of reasons that included sheer relief and a good deal less stress, made Lucy laugh. “I’d hope so. Since you Called me from the middle of a hunt and set me down in a time and place where I own nothing but what I’m wearing, hosting me  _ does _ seem to be the least you could do.”

Her laughter made Caspian’s face relax as well, enough that he smiled at her - a genuine smile that took years off his face. “That is very true.” He held out an arm for her. “May I escort you outside to the horses? As we both discovered, the floor here is quite slippery.”

Lucy took his offered arm. “You may indeed.”

  
  
  


They hadn’t known how many extra horses to bring, settling in the end for bringing none, out of expediency. When Caspian and Lucy appeared from the cave, Captain Rivensky confirmed that Lucy was the only one to arrive from the Call and then proceeded to reorganise their party until a horse had been provided for her, leaving a Faun to happily walk ( _ “We were  _ not _ meant for riding, your majesty, except for in grave need.” _ ).

While the arrangements were being made - and with Lucy looking on with an expression of fascination on her face - Caspian took a moment to surreptitiously look his new (old?) acquaintance over. At first sight - that very first moment - he had truly thought it was his young friend that had come back. But this Lucy… she was obviously not the one that he had known.

Tall enough to look him in the eye without bending her neck, this Lucy was a broad-shouldered woman fully grown, who, from the look of it, could use bows more heavy than the hunting bow she wore over one shoulder. She had hunting gear on - utilitarian clothes of an older cut with no skirts or wide sleeves, but full trousers and wrapped arms with an archer’s guard on her left arm. It was all very fine quality - and worn from use. She hadn’t been on a pleasure ride.

“Am I that different?”

Caught, Caspian met her eyes. “Rivensky must have told you.”

“She did.” Lucy looked over at his Captain. “I gathered from her that a younger version of myself sailed along with you to the end of the world. She didn’t know what age I would’ve been but, from your reaction, it can’t have been very old at all.”

“You were not.” Lucy didn’t seem at all taken aback that he had a centaur captain, and female at that - which surprised  _ Caspian _ . There were still many Telmarines that stared when introduced to a non-human captain - and refused to allow for women going to war at all. “Ten perhaps? I can’t recall the precise age.”

Lucy laughed. “Oh,  _ Aslan _ ! That is very young. I’m not sure that I myself can recall that age.” 

“May I ask your current age, then?” It was slightly rude, he knew, but he thought she’d allow it.

“Twenty-three.” Lucy gave him a frank look over. “And I would put  _ you  _ at the age of a friend of mine, which would put you at a hair over fifty.”

“Close enough.”

“I thought so.” Guards brought their horses, and Lucy waited as Caspian got onto his. “I would guess most people think that you’re younger, but there’s a look in your eyes that says otherwise.”

The loss of so many held dear would do that to a person. 

Needing to escape the subject, Caspian turned it towards Rivensky.

“You don’t seem surprised a female centaur leads my guard.”

“Should I be?” Lucy had a quick look around. “If anything, I’m surprised at the ratio of humans to Narnians among your guard - but I suppose much must have happened in a thousand years.”

Following her look around, Caspian frowned. There  _ was _ a notable disparity. “Narnia has only recently become independent again - Aslan led me in the war that reinstated her when I was a boy.”

“Then you know Aslan.” Lucy nodded, as if that confirmed something. “And it takes time to stabilise a country.” Her eyes grew distant. “It’s been a dozen years since we took our thrones and yet… There’s still war at our borders and I would lie if I said everything was well.” She shook her head, eyes focusing again. “But if Rivensky has chosen to follow you, you must be doing fine. A centaur follows no one on a whim.”

“His majesty is a good ruler.” Rivensky came up beside them. “I’m glad to give him my allegiance.”

“As I am proud to have you as my Captain.” And it had been worth every single cold shoulder from his Telmarine nobles to make it so. Narnia was the home of Talking Beasts, centaurs, dwarves and other native people first, humans second. He would fight to return the lands taken from them until his last breath.

When the castle came into view, Caspian saw Lucy take a deep breath as she looked it over. She looked...sad. But it had to be odd to come back to the place you had called home only days earlier and find it a strange place. They had attempted to keep a certain amount of sameness to the castle as they rebuilt, but with the ruins in the shape they had been, there hadn’t been much to work with.

Lucy caught his look and dashed a hand over her eyes. “I will love her again,” she told him.

And that, Caspian thought, was the one way that she was very much the same as her younger self. Lucy  _ believed _ . 

He envied her that.

  
  
  


The sun was barely up when Lucy was led into a suite of rooms on the eastern side of the castle overlooking the sea. The large windows let in sheets of light from the gentle morning sun, spilling over lush carpets and fine silks. When she stepped onto the balcony attached to the sitting room, she found herself looking out over a view much like the one she was used to. A coincidence, she was sure, but a soothing one nonetheless.

The servants that had met them at their return had all been humans. Lucy wasn’t sure what to think about that - in her time, there were few humans living in Cair Paravel, and those were mostly dignitaries. A handful of servants and craftsmen and women were humans, for sure, but Narnia was very much not a human country.

Had that changed, she wondered. Caspian had indicated not, but from what she had seen so far… Lucy stomped down on a rising sense of unease. If they had only restored Narnia to a country within the last forty years, she couldn’t expect too much. Could she?

There was a knock on the door. Lucy stepped inside to call an ‘enter’, hoping it was the aid she had been promised to prepare for a council that was to take place as soon as its members could be raised. A satyr stepped inside (Lucy couldn’t hold back a large smile), followed by two dryads carrying clothing and bathing items. The satyr introduced himself as Brevis, the dryads introducing themselves as Birch and Ash. 

“You are a most welcome sight!” she told them all. “I have been told to expect a council within the next few hours, and I do believe I need a change of clothes!”

It didn’t take long for her to get undressed and into a bath, a sharp-eyed dwarven woman appearing to take her clothes to measure and procure suitable clothing for her. Brevis whisked away her weapons and other gear for storage and by the time Rivensky came to guide her to the council, she felt and looked much more like the queen the council would expect to see.

“I never thought you’d still have  _ my _ crown,” she confided quietly to Rivensky as they walked.

“I believe the main treasure chamber was left intact. Galar would’ve retrieved as many of your belongings as she could from what we saved from it.”

Galar was the dwarven woman that had shown up with the crown and her clothing.

“I must remember to thank her.”

Rivensky snorted, her tail hitting the wall with a soft smack as she twitched it. “Galar is one of the old believers. She would’ve been most upset if she had  _ not  _ been allowed to attend you.” After a moment, she added, “Most of the Old Narnians in the castle would be.”

Sensing something unsaid that she wasn’t quite picking up on, Lucy chanced, “Including you?”

“Yes.” Rivensky gave her a quick look. “You’re still loved by your people, your majesty. You weren’t forgotten.”

There it was again, the intense feeling she perceived before. “Thank you.”

Something was definitely not quite right, Lucy thought. But for now, it might be better not to ask further. Besides, there was the council, and if she had learned anything in the years up to now, it was that council meetings were never easy. She would need her focus.

From what Lucy had gathered so far, from Rivensky and her servants, Caspian was a good king. He had, they said, been raised in a human court but with a small amount of Narnian knowledge. Since his ascension to the throne, he had done what he could to join Telmarines and Old Narnians, but the distribution of positions of power had still very much been weighed in the favour of the Telmarines. The difference had grown smaller with the years, but Narnia was still a country with healing wounds.

And on top of this was the reason she had been called.

Lucy took a deep breath as she entered the council room, then eased into a neutral face as she was shown to a seat opposite Caspian, at the short end of the table. Caspian must have no queen. Then, as Caspian summarised the events of the morning to his councillors, she took the opportunity to return the scrutiny he’d made of her earlier.

There wasn’t much that was different about him in the daylight. His curly hair had more grey in it than she’d realized, and there were wrinkles at the corners of his mouth and eyes. A pair of broad shoulders and trim hips aided in his youthful look, an additional softness due to either age or padding making him less intimidating.

All in all, he was handsome, she supposed. Most definitely more so than the princes that usually sought her hand. Not that Caspian was one of her suitors - but if had been so, she suspected that she would’ve been far less dismissive.

A shift in tone alerted her to a change in subject and Caspian proceeded to introduce her to the councillors. She greeted them each with a nod, carefully making note of faces and names in her mind. The more you knew about people, in her opinion, the easier it was to come out on top in politics.

Lucy gave them all a bright smile at the end of introductions, making no distinction between Narnians and humans.

And she  _ would _ come out on top.

  
  
  


Rivensky was late bringing Lucy. It wasn’t wholly unexpected - even using all the resources the castle could offer, it would take time to procure clothing suitable for a council and that was in addition to the need to clean herself up. They were lucky to have saved enough of Lilliandil’s gowns to lend Lucy, but Caspian still wasn’t sure what to expect. The personable young woman he had met this morning - how would she come across in a political setting? 

When the servants opened the wide doors, Caspian held his breath...and let it out as a Queen walked into the room. This woman was not the woman of only hours before, or the young friend he’d known. This was Queen Lucy - straight-backed and with an air of  _ belonging _ that had taken years for Lilliandil to achieve. And, he realized quickly on the heels of this, that this woman  _ had _ had years to achieve. Lucy would’ve been a queen for almost twenty years at this stage. To walk into a council room unprepared and among strangers - it wouldn’t be new.

Caspian took quiet note of what the councillors did at her arrival. All of them stood - the Old Narnians bowed. Two Telmarines bowed as well - and all councillors seemed to relax as they saw her confidence. There were looks - there always were, especially from those that had opinions on women in places of power - but most of them kept their minds open.

And Lucy  _ used _ that.

Caspian hadn’t expected her to be a politician. He wasn’t sure whether the others present could see it, or if it was his familiarity with her as a child. In the time it took for Drinian to lay out the situation in front of her, she had them wound around her little finger with bright smiles and sharp questions hidden in velvet. She wasn’t a conventional politician, but a politician nevertheless.

As silence fell at the end, Lucy took a slow drink from her wine goblet, put it down and then looked straight at Trumpkin.

“I believe you’re right. I don’t know of a particular witch with the abilities you described, but turning into a serpent is definitely within their capabilities. As for the missing people in the south - have you sent scouts to the Under Realms?”

“Under Realms?” Drinian asked, the same puzzlement that Caspian felt in his voice.

It wasn’t Lucy that answered, but Rivensky, stationed at the door. “The Underworld. Bism, and connected realms.”

That was when the council dissolved into shouting.

  
  
  


“I think,” Caspian said, in an even tone that Lucy recognized from Peter when he was on the verge of exploding in anger, “that I need to look deeper into Narnian history.”

It was, she supposed, a credit to him that it was his lack of knowledge that he focused on after the mess that the council had turned into and not the utter disgust that  _ she _ tried not to betray she felt.

“Badgers and centaurs keep excellent records,” she said evenly, counting her steps as she walked. She needed  _ something _ to focus on. “Dwarves have extensive oral history. I’m certain Calormen still keeps records that are just as detailed as any records kept in Narnia during my time. If your diplomatic standing is good, I might start there.”

Caspian stopped so abruptly that Lucy almost ran into him. His chest heaved as he took a deep breath and held it, before letting it explode out. “Aslan’s mane!” he gritted out. “They must think we are uneducated  _ children _ .”

Who  _ they  _ were, Lucy didn’t know. At this point, it could be the Narnians or the Calormenes - or both. “To be fair, when it comes to history, we are  _ all _ children to Calormen.” After a bit of deliberation, she patted his arm. “Their libraries, at least in my time, are amazing.”

Caspian looked at her, jaw working. “This must look so bad to you.”

It did, but this was not the time to admit to that. “Everyone makes mistakes.” Lucy met his eyes. “If you’ve had no teacher in Narnian history and culture, you wouldn’t know what questions to ask. I get the feeling that the Telmarine people aren’t overly excited that Narnia has reappeared, so it doesn’t surprise me that information isn’t as easy to get.”

“I had a teacher.” Caspian was pulling his fingers through his hair again. “Doctor Cornelius. He died - oh, maybe ten years ago. I thought I knew enough.”

“‘No use crying over spilled milk’,” Lucy quoted, remembering the saying from her childhood. “A saying from my home world.”

Caspian let out a startled laugh. “We say that too.”

A muffled clopping alerted them to Rivensky’s approach. Caspian looked at Lucy. “I believe that’s my cue to return to try to make all of this into less of a mess.”

“Go.” She waved at him. “I need rest anyway - though don’t hesitate to call for me if you need me.”

With a short nod, Caspian strode off to join Rivensky, immediately entering into a hushed conversation with her. Lucy headed towards her new rooms, her mind spinning with questions.

She had thought, initially, that perhaps Caspian had been hasty to use the Horn. Now, she was beginning to think that the help he asked for wasn’t the help he needed.

When she entered her rooms, she found Brevis working at a small desk in the hallway. He looked up when she came over, not standing but giving her his attention. Just like her aides would in her own time, she thought.

“I need to know more about what has happened since my time,” she told him. “Do you have people that you can ask to come?”

Brevis smiled. “I took the liberty of doing so already.” Putting down his pen, he stood and executed a bow. “My Queen, I didn’t have the time to let you know before, but I trace my line all the way back to one of your servants. We - me and my associates - have been waiting for you since you were Called.”

Feeling suddenly faint, Lucy plastered on a smile. Oh, she  _ hoped _ that didn’t mean what she thought it sounded like.

  
  
  


Caspian found Lucy in Lilliandil’s garden. She had situated herself in the pavilion, with no respect for her silk gown, and was polishing her bow with the sort of intensity that spoke of deep-seated anger. Her face, however, held nothing like that, and, as he came closer to her, neither did her voice as she spoke softly to… well, Lilliandil, he supposed.

“I don’t remember meeting you,” Lucy was saying, “but I do wish that I did. Will do? Oh, Aslan, this is far too complicated.”

Caspian scuffed his boots on the paved path, alerting her to his presence. He didn’t think that she would appreciate being startled - and he wasn’t at all sure that she knew that he was there. “I wish she could’ve met you as well,” he said when she looked up at him. “I believe you would’ve liked each other.”

It wasn’t as easy to sit on the floor as it had once been. His knees clicked as he bent them, and he hit the ground with a slightly heavier thump than he had intended. Lucy eased to the side, scooting her belongings with her.

“Any progress with the council?” she asked.

“As you know, we sent out scouts this morning - our swiftest flyers returned but an hour ago with our first report.” He winced as he remembered what they’d told the council. “You were right - there are open entrances to the south of Narnia and guards at those entrances. More activity than there has been in hundreds of years, my friend Trufflehunter says.”

He had sent for Trufflehunter as soon as he had been able, hoping that the long memory of his Badger friend extended to matters of conflict. From the look in Trufflehunter’s eyes as Caspian bent to embrace him, he had expected Caspian to do so much sooner. That… hurt.

Lucy nodded, keeping her eyes on her work. Then, deliberately, she leaned over to trace the letters of Lilliandil’s stone with her fingers, bringing her close enough he could feel the heat of her against his skin. For a moment, he was very much reminded that this was a  _ woman _ \- then her words knocked all other thoughts out of his mind.

“We have a problem,” she said, lips barely moving. “And we need to talk - outside of Paravel.”

Caspian went cold. He wasn’t a fool - a few hours of her presence and he had already begun to see the cracks in what he had thought of as a sound foundation. His candid talk with Trufflehunter had bared even more. 

“What’s the next step?” Lucy asked, leaning back.

She trusted him, Caspian realised, to take what she had told him and make what they needed happen. And, luckily, he knew how to proceed.

“I thought to ask you to accompany me on a matter far overdue.” At her look, Caspian took a crumpled scroll from his belt and rolled it out on the floor. “Borders - specifically our southern border.” He weighed the scroll down to make sure they could see the entirety of the map it held. “I never did get around to touring Narnia. This might be a good time to tour at least the southern lands to be prepared without alerting anyone watching us.”

Lucy shot him a quick smile, then bent to look at the map. “I can tell you that Narnia has retracted her borders since my time.” She pointed to a few areas outside of the border delineations. “Here and here - this was Narnian heartland, the border stretching as far as this.” She indicted another place, far into what Caspian had thought wilderness. “I wouldn’t be surprised if, should you travel there, they would still consider themselves Narnian, though you might not understand them as such.”

Caspian frowned. “I was always taught that there was no one living there.”

Lucy made an exasperated noise, then, a moment later, shook her head. “I’m sorry - I’m being ridiculous. It’s merely… Caspian, Narnia never had a sizable human population. This…” she indicated the same area on the map, “is where some of the biggest dwarf families had their home. And this forest was fully  _ alive _ .”

“...alive?”

Lucy looked at him. Then shook her head, this time, he thought, not at him. “Mostly wood spirits, but also dryads and the equivalent of Talking Animals, but trees.”

Caspian resisted the urge to tug at his hair again. At the rate he was receiving information, he would end up bald within days. It was becoming very clear to him that if you did not ask a Narnian, they would not tell. A habit, he suspected, his own people had aided them in cultivating.

“It’s a good idea to go there,” Lucy decided. “It will put us where we are most needed - and, if you’re lucky, one of the Old Gods might come around to aid us in your education. They used to favour that forest when it came to visits.” The last bit, she said with not a little bit of mischievousness.

Caspian thought back to the River God of his youth. And Bacchus. “By Aslan… I’m not sure that is something I would ever wish for.”

Lucy laughed throatily. “That’s probably very wise.”

Caspian, for the first time in what must’ve been ten years at least, blushed.

  
  
  


Rivensky managed to make their entourage even smaller than Caspian had thought they might get away with. When Lucy commented on this to Rivensky, she told her that it came at the cost of luxuries and more guards. Lucy had to say she approved - there was a certain charm to travelling with pavilions and servants, but all in all she preferred bedrolls and campfires. Especially if they were attempting to keep a low profile.

“It’s almost like being on the  _ Dawn Treader _ again,” Caspian commented as he and Lucy rode behind their single supply wagon.

“That was the ship on which you sailed to the end of the world, yes?” She remembered seeing a painting in her rooms of a beautiful ship with a dragon’s head and mouth. Perhaps it had been Caspian’s ship.

“Yes. She’s still afloat - I visit her in the harbour from time to time - but she’s not in active use.” Caspian sounded wistful, and suddenly, Lucy could see the boy he must’ve been. She remembered it from her younger days - the times you just  _ had _ to escape from court and find time for yourself. As an adult… well, if you could get away with it once every few months, you could be happy.

“I love being at sea,” Lucy admitted. “There’s something quite...restful about the waves and the winds, the unpredictability of the sea.”

“The younger you mentioned sailing, though never why. Did Galma and Terebinthia require that much royal presence?” 

Lucy winced. She tried not to remember too much of her visits there. Some ladies enjoyed the spectacle of seeking political marriages - she did not. “They did not. But… marriage,” she told him. “They  _ are  _ our neighbours, and a match would be… beneficial.”

Caspian read her expression correctly. “Ah. May I assume you have no...prospects waiting at home then?”

“Oh, I have prospects,” Lucy said through her teeth. “I have more problems getting rid of them.” At Caspian’s look, she waved her hand. “Oh, I’m not looking for romantic love or anything, but I  _ do _ have some general expectations of how to be treated.”

“I see.” And she could see that he did. He gave her a wry smile. “I wasn’t of marriageable age when my Uncle was still alive, but… there was talk.”

“And then you met Lilliandil.” The wife that still put grief in his eyes and a smile on his face when he spoke of her. Though, she could understand him. “We had no heirs when you Called,” she admitted. “And it was becoming an issue. I think that, if I were at home, I could soon expect a very difficult speech from my siblings.” She was, after all, of an age.

Lucy closed her eyes momentarily, trying to push away the sadness that was trying to overflow. She would see her siblings again, even if it would not be for a lifetime. She needn't be sad.

A warm hand squeezed her shoulder briefly, distracting her, followed by a question. “Your siblings had found no spouses either?”

Lucy drew a shaky breath, squaring her metaphorical shoulders. “It was less a matter of spouses and more an issue of managing to conceive. And…” She thought of Rabadash. “As younger royalty, you’re often thought of as easy to take advantage of.” She looked Caspian. “You were truly lucky to find your Lilliandil.”

“I was.” His eyes softened at the thought of his departed wife. “Though we had our own issues with conceiving. I don’t think we were ever meant to have more than one child.”

She could see the sadness so different and yet so similar to her own overtake him, and returned his calming gesture, leaning across the distance between them to take his hand. “We’ll find your son.”

Caspian turned their hands so that he could squeeze hers back, but didn’t meet her eyes. “I hope so.”

  
  
  


Rivensky led them off the southern main road around midday, continuing onto trails that were barely wide enough for their supply wagon. With Lilliandil having been an avid rider, Caspian had known about the numerous trails along the Narnian coastline, but not even he had known just how  _ many _ there were. When the sun began to set and Rivensky selected a hollow with forest on one side and an enormous pile of rocks on another to set camp in, Caspian had to admit he was thoroughly lost.

“Of course you are,” Lucy said when he mentioned it. “We’ve mostly been on roads used by Talking Animals today - they are equipped for travelling on them and we humans are not. Not to mention that we are rather more intent on reaching a goal than the ones creating the paths likely were.”

For the first while after stopping for the night, everything was busy as everyone - including Caspian and Lucy - did their chores for the night. Caspian had been asked to make stone circles for the fireplaces and build fires, while Lucy, after a short exchange with Rivensky headed out with her bow in the company of Hoon-ah the Owl.

“I remember when that was my task,” Caspian commented to Rivensky once the fires were going and all he had to do was feed them wood as required. Rivensky had, in turn, set up watches for the night and had now settled in by the fire Caspian had chosen for her, Lucy and himself. 

“It would still be if not for those old bones of yours,” Rivensky said idly, folding her knees to get down into what on a horse would look like an uncomfortable kneel. “You’d scare the prey.”

Caspian grimaced, throwing Rivensky an apple to tide her over while the food was being prepared. “We can’t all stay limber in our fifties.”

“Indeed.” Rivensky herself was past that age by more than a decade. “It’s time to let the young ones do the fighting through bushes to find the game trails.”

Caspian looked up at a whistle and caught a cloth-bound bundle thrown to him by Lassia, the guard most commonly assigned to him in the castle. He liked her - and she never stood on ceremony with him. He’d asked her about it, once, and had gotten the answer that she didn’t really believe in royalty - but would certainly work for them if the pay was good. Besides, apparently he didn’t look like a king that would behead her for not saying ‘your majesty’ every other sentence in private.

Unwrapping their evening meal, Caspian set aside the vegetables to put in with whatever Lucy came back with later and set to making the three of them buttered bread with cheese to eat with their tea, which was already steeping at the edge of the fire.

“What are your thoughts about all this?” he asked Rivensky quietly, trying not to let his voice carry too far. He trusted Rivensky as much as he trusted anyone - they had been together ever since he returned from the sea, through thick and thin.

Rivensky tore a bite out of her bread, chewing slowly. “It was long coming,” she said at last. “Aslan’s mane, Caspian, but Narnia has been a political mess since you took the throne. You’ve done your best - and so have I - but Narnia has never been partly human before. And I’m not sure we did  _ enough _ .”

“I’m starting to wonder what  _ would _ be enough.” Caspian stared into the fire. “How do you unite two different cultures that hate each other - and with one of them hunting the other to near extinction?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. But--” Rivensky inclined her head towards Lucy, coming up the path to the camp with a bushel of hares over her shoulder, “I think that her majesty will be a very big help in figuring it out.”

Watching as Lucy handed the hares to the cook and then headed to the stream further away to wash up, Caspian silently agreed. She had been with them for only a few days, and already her mere presence was unearthing issues he hadn’t known were there. And that was without trying - he had the feeling that when she  _ was  _ trying, she would be even more effective.

“Has she told you about…?” Caspian let it hang in the air, unsure whether to name... _ it _ .

“Yes.” Rivensky scowled. “I had to remove two or three names off my list of people to bring with us. She didn’t give any details, only what was needed. It’s why I took us onto the smaller trails - this way, we’ll notice if someone follows.”

“Even someone winged?”

Rivensky laughed. “If a Bird or otherwise winged person even  _ thinks _ about following, Hoon-ah and Vrees will let us know.”

Caspian looked at the two Owls, tearing into their evening meal, and laughed softly. “You’ve got a point.”

“I hope you enjoy hare,” Lucy announced, coming up on then a moment later, “because the only big four-legged animal that we found had a calf.” She sat down next to Caspian and collected the herbs to make her own tea. “It’s a  _ lovely _ evening though - the weather will be good tomorrow with this sunset.”

Rivensky nodded, tail swishing idly to chase away flies. “It’s a good time of year for travel.”

They waited until they had received their portion of the meat and everyone was busy at their own fires, eating and talking among themselves. Then Lucy put down her tea and took a deep breath.

“So,” she said, looking down at her hands for a moment before meeting Caspian’s eyes. “You’re going to have a coup on your hands. That is if we can’t come up with something to stop it from happening - and fast.”

Caspian inhaled through his teeth. “I was afraid of that.” He had suspected - he’d even been mostly sure - but to hear the words… It still felt as if someone had punched him.

“Apparently, according to Brevis,” Lucy continued, “during the hunt that I attended when you Called, my siblings disappeared - though, knowing that I have been in this world before today, somehow, I would guess that what they really did was return to our world. It was, however, noticed that I disappeared earlier than they did.”

Rivensky twitched. “There is a story saying that a Queen from the Golden Age will return when Narnia needs her the most.”

Caspian looked at her. Added that to the list of things that he ought to have known. “I didn’t know.”

“You wouldn’t.” Rivensky gave him an even look. “You don’t want to forewarn your enemy. Or that is the reasoning I’ve heard for not doing so.” Why Rivensky hadn’t told him… well, no doubt she’d had her hands full with other matters. She certainly wasn’t in charge of his history lessons.

“Of course.” Caspian flattened his hands on his thighs. “Lovely.”

Lucy nodded, mouth tight. “There are, apparently, a good number of very pleased Narnians right now.”

A thought struck Caspian - completely off the subject. “Wait, back to what you said - I met you almost forty years ago, and you haven’t met me until now. How does that even work?”

“Either I lost my memories - and I wouldn’t be surprised if I did as my siblings certainly remembered little of our own world as adults - or I was a very good actress.” Lucy shrugged. “You would be the one I’d ask about that.”

Caspian thought back to the young girl he’d met - and could honestly not say which answer was the most likely.

“It’s not much use wondering about that, I suppose,” he said at last. “Not when we have much more important matters at hand. A coup?”

“They want me to take my rightful place as Queen of Narnia and oust all Telmarines from Narnia. That sort of thing.” Lucy shook her head. “I got the impression they would not be at all unhappy if a lot of blood was spilled while this happened.”

“Radicals.” Rivensky turned her gaze heavenwards. “Though I know that many, who are not radicals, agree - even if they would prefer a more peaceful approach. My mother Selenbright - I think you met her, briefly, your majesty - says the stars indicate that something will happen soon - though what she refuses to say.”

“And, as I’m sure neither of you will be surprised to hear, there are plenty among the Telmarines that would prefer to go back to the old ways regarding Narnians.” Caspian leaned over to check on their stew, and then started to portion it out into their mugs after emptying them of tea. 

They were all quiet for a moment, then Lucy heaved a sigh. “I need a walk.”

Caspian and Rivensky both looked at her.

“Your majesty?” Rivensky prompted.

Lucy gave him a small smile. “I have a thought, but… I want to speak to Aslan before I mention anything further.”

Caspian blinked. “You can...talk to Aslan?”  _ And he answers?, _ he wanted to continue, but it seemed...rude.

“Yes.” Lucy looked at him. “So could you.”

Caspian sincerely doubted that. “How?” he wanted to know.

“I just speak to him. And then he answers.” Lucy shrugged. “Sometimes he comes to me - not often, but sometimes.”

Rivensky cleared her throat. Caspian glanced at her - and Rivensky gave him a look. “Narnians have a long history with Aslan,” she said. “And it’s known that some people are closer to him than others.”

Caspian guessed he did recall that Lucy had seen Aslan far more times than the rest of them during their journey on the  _ Dawn Treader _ \- and…couldn’t this be another of the far too many issues that divided his people? Perhaps it was another matter on which he needed to listen to other people than he usually did.

For the briefest of moments, he thought he heard a purring in his ears.

“Take someone with you,” he heard Rivensky tell Lucy. “I’m sure Hoon-ah would like another flight.”

“I will,” Lucy promised, already gathering up her bow and water skin.

Caspian looked after her as she went, head beginning to ache from all the questions fighting for his attention inside. Still… there was something about Lucy… Something that… well, he wanted to believe as well. To believe in a future that would be  _ better _ .

“You know,” he said quietly, “I think you were right before. Lucy will lead us onto a new path - even though I’m not sure where it will lead us.”

“That’s the nature of life,” Rivensky said pragmatically. “Now, let’s speak of tomorrow’s ride…”

  
  
  


Hoon-ah readily agreed to be her companion for her walk and soon, Lucy turned onto one of the game trails she had found during her hunt, threading her way through the trees towards a glen perhaps a quarter of a mile from their camp. Hidden completely by thick foliage, the glen had a small pond at its heart, fed by a trickle of a stream that joined the creek that ran by their camp on its way to the sea. Choosing a spot, she sat down on the thick carpet of moss and let herself drift as Hoon-ah took off to investigate the wildlife within hearing distance.

She didn’t call for Aslan. He would come, should he want to. In her heart, she was certain he would.

Moments later, the ground next to her compressed as a warm body lay down at her side, a deep purr soothing her to the bone. Lucy smiled to herself and turned over, burrowing her face into Aslan’s mane.

“I’m glad to see you,” she whispered.

“I’m always with you,” Aslan reminded her, but there was no chiding in his voice. They both knew that it was more of a ritual between them than a truly meant comment.

“You are.” Lucy sighed and put herself upright, crossing her legs to sit in front of Aslan. “You didn’t mean for me to be here.” It wasn’t a question. At the beginning, she had thought that  _ perhaps _ he had, but when her presence began to stir up trouble… No, Aslan believed too much in personal free will.

Aslan rumbled slightly. “There is Deep Magic that I cannot involve myself with.” There was a breath of silence as they both remembered the one time he  _ had _ involved himself. “You were called here using magic that is very far from my purview.”

Lucy let out a breath. “I thought so.” Had she hoped so? Had she begun to… feel as if she wanted to stay? “Will you take me back? Or is this something that must play out?”

“I cannot see what will happen.” Aslan butted at her with his head, feeling her distress. “But I will say this: when the time comes, I will guide you home.”

There were tears streaming down her cheeks, Lucy realized suddenly, then, just as suddenly, she was sobbing. With another deep rumble, Aslan hooked a paw around her and pulled her to him, holding her against his large body. “You will be fine, dear. Believe in yourself, and you will find the answers you need.”

Lucy sniffled wetly against him. “I miss them.” But not as much as I should, she thought to herself, though she knew that Aslan would hear her anyway.

Aslan said nothing, but he didn’t need to. Instead, he stayed by her, a comforting presence, as she grieved.

  
  
  


Lucy returned at dawn. Hoon-ah had returned briefly at a late hour the previous night to report that Lucy was having a conversation with Aslan and that they need not worry. Then she had left again to resume her watch, leaving the camp unsettled until Vrees had pointed out that Queen Lucy had been known to be close to Aslan and, really, this was not something to get stirred up by.

The need ‘not to get stirred up’ was something that Caspian found that he needed to continually remind himself as he prepared for sleep. Aslan might have come to aid them during their fight against Miraz, but after that, as far as he knew, there hadn’t been a single sighting of a Lion in Narnia. Then again, would he be told about such an intensely Narnian thing? It seemed to him that he would often not have been told. But it was nevertheless uncomfortable - and almost… Was he feeling jealous? That Aslan came to Lucy’s help, but not his? But then again, had he himself ever believed in Aslan as she did?

It was all rather concerning.

“I hope that I didn’t worry you,” Lucy said quietly on her return the next morning, beginning to work at making them breakfast. “I needed some time.”

“Hoon-ah told us.” Caspian took the tea she handed him, warming his hands and debating how much he could - and should - ask her. “Did you get your answers?” He didn’t mention Aslan - his own relationship with the Lion was something he had to deal with himself.

“Yes.” Lucy offered him a smile - not to show any particular happiness, he thought, but for comfort. And that she was attempting to comfort him, when she had been visibly carrying her own heavy burdens…

“Lucy.” 

She’d been sipping on her tea, deep in her own thoughts. When Caspian spoke, she looked up, that same comforting smile appearing on her lips. “Yes?”

He shifted himself onto his knees, leaning closer so that he could fully see her face in the still dim light. “I know we don’t know each other very well yet, but, I’m willing to listen if you ever need to talk.” Caspian made a face. “Lilliandil often said that I seem unapproachable - that might, perhaps, be why Narnia is in the state she is - but I can tell you: I will listen to anything you want to tell me. I want to be your friend - just as a younger you became mine.”

Lucy blinked. “Quite a speech.”

Caspian laughed a little, sitting back. Being so close made him want to touch her, and… well, it was not appropriate. Not right then. “It was honestly meant.”

This time, when Lucy smiled, it was real. “And very much appreciated. Don’t worry about me, Caspian. When I need you, I will reach out.” The smile flickered for a second. “My siblings and I didn’t always see things the same way. I have learned that sometimes, the only thing that I can do that is right, is to reach out and make my case and then let the dice fall as they will.”

Sensing that she might need the levity, Caspian teased, “That was quite a speech as well.”

Odd melancholy completely gone, Lucy laughed.. “And it, too, was honestly meant.” She shook her head. “Perhaps we are both taking this too seriously. Do you want to be friends, Caspian? Even though I’m not the little girl you knew.”

“I would love to,” Caspian said - and meant it. It would never cease to amaze him how, even though it had only been a handful of days, it felt as if she had been with him forever.

When Lucy beamed back at him, he knew that they would be just fine.

  
  
  


Caspian had surprised her that morning. She hadn’t thought much of it, but he had indeed, sometimes, come across to her as somewhat unapproachable. That he had the self-awareness to know that...well, that as well surprised her.

It made her feel silly. Silly, but happy - and much more optimistic about what she was going to do. She hadn’t voiced her idea to Aslan but… If he had thought it a bad idea, he would have told her, she thought. And… she had needed to speak with him about… the other world more. About her siblings. Her future.

“Tell me more about your Telmarines,” she asked Caspian later that day, feeling as if she needed to talk if she was ever to manage to broach the subject she wished to speak of. “I’ve learned a lot of the history of Narnia between my time and this time since I arrived, but it’s all been from the point of view of Narnians. What of you Telmarines?”

Caspian made a thoughtful noise. “I don’t believe I’ve ever had that question before, you know.”

“Well, you lived as a Telmarine your entire life,” Lucy pointed out. “And all Narnians have lived under Telmarine rule for all their lives. You have all assumed you knew each other perfectly well.”

Caspian stared at her. “Aslan’s  _ mane _ ,” he finally said, emphatically. 

And that, she guessed, was yet another thing that hadn’t occurred to anyone with the ability to bring it up. “Just tell me,” she prompted quietly. “Maybe you can think of it as a lesson to a Telmarine child - though I’m not  _ quite _ that young.”

That startled a laugh out of him. “No, you’re  _ definitely _ not quite that young.”

For some reason, that made her want to blush. Hastily, she prompted again, “So, once upon a time?”

Caspian played along. “So, once upon a time my people came here fleeing famine and war in our old home. Narnia seemed like a good place to settle - there were no other people living here and the land was fertile.” He hesitated. “The historians couldn't quite agree  _ when _ we discovered that Narnia was already inhabited, but it’s safe to say that it wasn’t a peaceful discovery.” He looked at her. “Do you want this to be centered on Telmarines as a people, or as a general history of our time in Narnia?”

“For now, let’s go with the people,” Lucy decided, thinking ahead. She wanted to know what to expect.

Caspian nodded. “Well, we’re definitely patriarchal. Women usually have a more withdrawn role within our culture - not to say that we don’t have our outliers, but the women I knew growing up considered the home their domain. As for how we rule ourselves… Before I took the throne, we had a king with a secondary body of lawmakers made up of nobles, all male. My uncle got rid of the nobles that didn’t support him, which made it easier for him to get things done his way.”

“I saw three women councillors,” Lucy pointed out, “one Telmarine, so this must have changed.”

“Somewhat,” Caspian agreed, “and with great effort. And there are currently four women councillors, but Sessandri’s wife is due any day with their first child. I expect you will meet her as soon as the little one is born. That is another change: before, marriage was between man and woman only.”

“Do you still have a noble’s council?”

Caspian scowled. “No. Suffice to say that most of my nobles weren’t happy with the changes I made after Narnia was united. They left when Aslan offered them a way out. It was for the best. The council we have now is the council we’ve had since I took the throne, and it’s not limited to nobles.”

“And it’s an equal number of Narnians and Telmarines - if you don’t count yourself.”

“And believe me: I get counted as whatever is favourable to whoever is speaking at that moment.” Caspian sighed. “If I am to be honest, politics is neither my forte nor my interest.”

Lucy didn’t comment on that, too preoccupied with her train of thought. “I think I understand a little more.” They weren’t as badly off as she had feared, she thought. It was just a very slow process.

“How is your court structured?” Caspian asked, interrupting her train of thought.

“Differently,” Lucy said drily. “My brother, Peter, is of course the High King, but Edmund, Susan and I are equal under him. We have councillors, one representative for each People in Narnia that wants the representation. The only humans at court are dignitaries and the occasional human that strayed into Narnia and liked it enough to stay and find work..”

“That is...different.” 

She wasn’t sure if he meant it in a positive or negative way. A look at him, however, made her think that he meant just that: it was different.

“These  _ are  _ two very different worlds that we’re trying to make one.” Lucy looked around them. “But it’s certainly something that can be done. Your Guard, for example, seems to be a working mix of Telmarines and Narnians.”

Caspian looked around as well. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“Then that is the first step: begin to think of it in that way.” And then, Lucy thought,  _ do  _ something about it. As she would have to do once they stopped for the night. There was no point in delaying it.

  
  
  


“Will you walk with me?”

There it was. Caspian looked up at Lucy. She was cupping her tea mug, smiling at him. He had been waiting for her to… say something?... he supposed since that afternoon. She’d been building up to something, though what he couldn’t quite pin down. Though he had his own thoughts on the matter. Thoughts that he didn’t linger on - if he was right, this was something that had to come from Lucy herself.

“Certainly.” Caspian stood - slowly, since his body was taking its sweet time remembering how to travel. “Should I bring something?”

“No.” Lucy looked over her shoulder at Rivensky. “I promised to stay within visual range - I just think… it might be easier if we’re not overheard.”

Caspian agreed. He was honestly not sure of how this conversation would go - Aslan’s Mane, he wasn’t even sure that he knew his own answer should his suspicion be right.

The place they had stopped for the night was, in Caspian’s opinion, scenic to the point of him suspecting collusion. A large meadow, full of flowers and lined with willows sinking their roots into the ground between their camp and the lake beyond the trees. The moon was full and… well, he could appreciate the atmosphere.

Lucy led the way to the furthermost part of the meadow, picking her way through the grass to a fallen tree. There, she sat, stretching out her legs and looking up at the moon. For a moment, Caspian didn’t want to move, but simply wanted to stand there, looking at her. Then he followed her to sit next to her.

How would she ask, he wondered. 

She turned towards him. Then, unexpectedly, her mouth twitched.

And she burst out in a laugh. After a moment, he couldn’t help but follow.

“Oh,  _ Aslan _ ,” Lucy managed to get out between giggles. “I was all set to do this, lay out my thoughts, but…” She gestured around her. “This… this is just too much.”

“I thought perhaps that you...and Rivensky…” He didn’t get any further before his head told him that, by any standards, he’d been  _ silly _ . 

Lucy shook her head. “I wish. But I lean more practical than fanciful.” She indicated the lake beyond their trees. “This is just one of the old dancing meadows and was used for camping even back in our time.”

Caspian found himself stuck on her first words. “You wish?”

Lucy looked at him. “Well, it would be nice to marry for love, wouldn’t it?” Her smile was small, but it made him want to touch her. “You can’t deny that marrying to help unite Narnia couldn’t be more businesslike.”

Something inside of him, something that had been building up ever since she arrived, loosened. “It needn’t be.” Taking a chance, Caspian reached out to take her hand. She let him, looking curiously down at their hands as their fingers tangled, seemingly at their own accord. “I don’t think I’m speaking only for myself when I’m saying that I’ve grown fond of you.”

“You... aren’t.” Lucy bit her lip, for the first time almost seeming shy.

Caspian let out a careful breath. “I’m not saying that it would be perfect, but… I think we can grow. Together. And… I think that it wouldn’t all be about Narnia.”

Lucy looked at him and it felt as if she was looking into his soul. Carefully, she untangled their hands and scooted closer to him, raising her hand to touch his cheek. His skin burned under her touch, his heart beating as if he was sixteen again.

“May I?” she whispered, then, at his small nod, leaned in.

He managed to hold on for a few seconds, her lips moving over his, before he tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her closer.  _ Yes _ , he thought, then, as her nails dug into his back as she clung to him, he lost track of all thought.

  
  
  


Lucy enjoyed waking up next to someone, even if it was in the middle of a meadow and she had a rather sharp rock poking her in the side. She dislodged the rock with a wiggle, then scooted closer to place her head on Caspian’s shoulder.

“Good morning,” she said quietly when Caspian stirred beneath her.

His arm tightened around her momentarily, then loosened as he tilted his head awkwardly to meet her eyes. “Good morning.” Then he frowned, taking in the daylight . “Are we sleeping in?”

“Yes.” Lucy was quite pleased about it too. “The lady’s prerogative - I talked it over with Rivensky yesterday. I thought we might need some time - for one reason or another. Today, we rest - and Rivensky can send messenger birds to get the most recent news.”

“Double duty,” Caspian approved, half-closing his eyes again. He looked adorable.

“It seemed like a good idea.” Lucy closed her eyes completely and rubbed her nose into his tunic. “We will have plenty to do soon enough. A morning to ourselves... “

“Yes,” Caspian summarized.

They were, she thought, both ignoring all the upcoming trials at the moment. But really, they deserved it. The agreement they’d come to yesterday… it would lead them forwards. And without rest, no one could stay focused enough to stay on that forward path.

“Do you think that this will work?” she asked Caspian tentatively.

“It will help,” he said, after a moment’s thought. “It’ll bring people together and…” He squeezed her middle. “...it will give us both someone to lean on.”

And that was true, Lucy thought. In more than one way this was a new beginning.

It had promise.

  
  



End file.
